


Kings And Queens

by princeunderthemountain



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depression, Emotions, M/M, Moving On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 18:56:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princeunderthemountain/pseuds/princeunderthemountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after The Battle Of Five Armies, The Queen Under The Mountain has called Bilbo back to Erebor to discuss something very important: The Final Will And Testament Of Thorin Oakenshield.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kings And Queens

_tink_  
 _tink_  
 _tink_  
Bilbo woke to that sound. Something small and sharp tapping against glass. He hoped it might just go away. Whatever it was, being in bed felt better.  
Bilbo rolled onto his side and tried to block the noise out.  
The tapping continued for half an hour before Bilbo screamed with frustration.  
He crawled to the window and opened it, not really sure what was on the other side. An annoying bird, probably. It was late autumn, and a wave of cold spread over Bilbo as he opened the window wide.  
He didn’t really recognize the bird. Somewhere between an eagle and an owl. It had a bright red and purple crest on it’s head like a mohawk, and was grasping something in it’s Talons. A a leather scroll tube.  
Bilbo took the scroll tube and the bird left in a flurry of feathers. Bilbo closed the window and crawled back on to the bed. His eyes still blurry from sleep, he tried his best to read the message within.

_Bilbo Baggins_  
 _Bag End_  
 _Hobbiton_  
 _The Shire_  
 _Eriador_

_Dear Mister Baggins,_

_Her majesty Dís of the line of Durin, Queen Under The Mountain, wishes to meet with you in Erebor as soon as possible to discuss the passing of Thorin of the line of Durin. A small group of soldiers has been sent out to Hobbiton to escort you to Erebor and back. They should arrive at your place of residence on the 6th of November. Please enjoy your day._

_The Queens Court_  
 _Royal House_  
 _Erebor_  
 _Rhovanion_

Slowly, Bilbo did the math on his fingers. Today was the 6th.  
“Bloody dwarves.” He whispered, screwing up the paper into a ball and throwing it into the trash.  
Bilbo laid back down and pulled his blankets over his head, drowning out the world. He wasn’t going to drop everything and go back to Erebor. He had too many emotions tied to that place. He had lost too much.  
The months after coming back had not been easy. Initially, he’d been joyful to return to The Shire. He’d spent so many months away, and he’d only just arrived back in time to forgo the selling of his own house.  
However, about a week after coming back, he started to fade away. He noticed how he could only handle five meals on a good day, and eventually three. He had less energy. He never got out of bed. After about four weeks, he smashed every single plate and bowl in his house in frustration he couldn’t really place a motive on. After that, he found it very hard to ever feel happy.  
It suited him, though. Ate when he wanted, slept when he wanted, and no one bothered him. They just left the crazy man under the hill to himself. Children no longer found it funny to run by his house, screaming obscenities at him. The world was just better off if he never left his little hole.  
He couldn’t go.  
He wouldn’t go.  
He stared down at the crumpled ball of paper.  
 _Remember your handkerchief this time_ he told himself as he begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed.

The change to Erebor in the two years he’d been gone was evident.  
The area around, once overgrown and scraggly, was now orderly and showed evidence of a recently harvested crop. The once broken and mossy entrance was now gleaming, with a new statue that Bilbo refused to look too closely at.  
Inside, in the main hall, there were dwarves everywhere. They had come from all over Middle-Earth to come back to the place they were happy to call home now. It was like the market square in Hobbiton, but infinitely larger. Carts set up everywhere selling all kinds of things. Children running between adults. It felt like a home again. Thorin would have liked this. Thorin would have been proud.  
He thought like that a lot, since the quest. If he made a particularly good cup of tea or he made a better loaf of bread than usual, he’d wonder what Thorin would think about it. He tried to deny he missed Thorin, but Bilbo had always been a horrible liar.  
The guard he had been traveling with took him down a wide street paved with a different kind of rock than the other parts of the city. The came up to what Bilbo guessed was the Royal Grounds. Not really a castle of any kind, just a big house with a fountain out front.  
The guard lead him inside and down twisting corridors that Bilbo would never remember. At one point he passed by the room that bore Kili's name on the door, but he couldn’t be sure.  
“She is in here.” The guard stated in a deep voice. He left immediately.  
Bilbo’s hand hovered over the metal doorknob. What was she like? Was she like Thorin? He had never met a queen before. What were they like?  
There was only one way to find out.

She sat at a large stone table in her study, going over stacks of paper that were fanned out around here. A fire crackling in the fireplace threw shadows around the room, and in the strange light, she appeared most like a wild creature. Elegant and beautiful, but proud and strong. She turned to Bilbo and smiled. Bilbo was struck in the gut by what felt like an invisible hammer.  
Her face was most like Thorin’s. He could see it in the nose and eyes. Dark, heavy eyebrows and a full beard hid most of her skin, but Bilbo could tell her face was the same squarish shape, if only narrower. The only differences were in her lips, which were fuller and turned up rather than down, and her hair. Thorin had always had his hair down, with two braids next to his ears, but Dís had her hair pulled back sharply, with three braids trailing along the crown and towards the nape of her neck, where a metal divider split the tail into three. Her hair had much more silver in it than Thorin had. It was brought out by the iron-grey circlet imbedded with precious stones she wore on her brow.  
“Mr. Baggins.” She said, turning from the papers. Her voice was authoritative, but kind. “It is an honor to meet you.” She continued.  
Bilbo made an awkward sound of embarrassment at this greeting. The kind of embarrassment one fosters when complimented by someone who ranks far above themselves.  
“You do not greet me with kindness? Is this an ill time to talk?” Dís asked inquisitively.  
“Oh, of course not! I simply...I find it an honor to meet with you as well.” Bilbo said, bowing deeply.  
“Would you care to walk with me? I would take great pride in showing you around the Mountain. It had improved vastly in the time of your absence.” Dís asked, rising. The dark fur coat around her shoulders trailed down her body. It was at this movement that Bilbo notices the woman wore trousers and sturdy boots.  
Dís understood the layout of the Mountain Halls much better than Bilbo did, and soon they were passing through a beautifully decorated hall lit with blue torches. Dwarves passed them, bowing their heads to not only the queen, but also to Bilbo.  
“I find it interesting the title of...er...Queen Under The Mountain was passed to you, rather than your cousin.” Bilbo asked her.  
“Ah, yes. Dáin very much was interested in being King, but he had matter in the Iron Hills to attend to. I feel I am a competent-enough leader for my people, so I shall do my best. Do not fret.” She said. Her voice had a pleasant candance to it when she spoke long sentences.  
“I do not fret. I was merely curious.” Bilbo spoke quietly.  
“Then may I pay your curiosity with my own?” The Queen asked.  
“Of course.”  
“How did you view my brother?”  
There was a long period of silence, when Bilbo deliberated. They passed from the Mountain Hall into a naturally lit corridor with an impossibly high ceiling. Bilbo could hear song birds, although faint that they were.  
“I held him in high regard. He was...proud, and headstrong...but he was an amazing leader, and I was glad to fight along side him in the Battle Of Five Armies.”  
“He held you in high regard as well…higher than most might expect.” The Queen said ruefully, whispering the last part. It took Bilbo a second to realize what she meant, but he only smiled when he did, rather than become flustered and embarrassed like most would expect.  
“I know...I knew he viewed me in that way. To be frank, he didn’t really try to hide it.” Bilbo said, remembering back to the time in Beorn’s Hall. In the three places they had been considered guests and not prisoners or travelers, it was the only one that really had any semblance of privacy. Rivendell was far too open-concept, and Lake Town was a time for recuperation, not consummation. Bilbo had been unaware of how Thorin had thought of him, but...things happened, and feelings were made known. Bilbo knew how Thorin had thought of him, and he missed it.  
Dís laughed at his response. When she raised a hand to cover her mouth, Bilbo notices thick scars along her arm.  
“How do you know about our...er…” Bilbo started, but Dís interrupted him  
“There is no place for your halfling reservations here. Dwarrows do not openly discuss one’s private life, but we do not deny them. Speak freely and know judgment will not fall upon you.”  
“Thank you, Queen. So how did you know about our relationship?” Bilbo finished the question, not all the more comfortable.  
“Did Thorin perchance tell you of his diary?”  
“No. I didn’t even know Thorin liked writing. That’s why he drafted Ori into the Company, wasn’t it?”  
“Thorin was not a record keeper, that much is true, but he did indulge in his personal tales. He was like that as a child as well. He doesn’t write particularly neatly, or with great composition, but his inclination towards you was clear as diamond.”  
“Why did you read his diary? Isn’t something like that meant to be private?” Bilbo uttered quietly but strongly. Queen or not, a diary is private.  
“Dwarrows do not deign to leave curiosity unsated. Our race delves into the Earth because of a burning desire to know whats there. When we do find it, we respect it by turning it into something beautiful and useful. It is the same with private words. I read his diary in hopes that I might be able to find beauty and appreciation in the words, and possibly turn it into something useful. That which I did, halfling.”  
“What do you mean?” Bilbo asked. They were passing into a hall where the sound of rushing water could be heard.  
“Thorin’s last will and testament was in that diary.”  
Bilbo stopped in his tracks. He did not know Dwarves kept wills, considering it was such a nepotistic society.  
“This shocks you, halfling? I thought we just discussed his inclination towards you?” Dís asked.  
“I just though...we were just adventures together. Anything else was just…” Bilbo began.  
“Oh, Bilbo of The Shire. How humble you think yourself.” Dís laughed.  
They walked for a while in silence.  
“It is a pleasant day. Would you care to stroll through the gardens?” Dís asked. Bilbo nodded.  
The Queen lead Bilbo through a series of hallways to a large archway spilling with light. Outside, a small section of land on the side of the mountain had been turned into a beautiful garden. Verdant hedges styled into the blocky dwarvish style. Hewn stone benches between square ponds were solid but comfortable-looking.  
“Cultivation is not usually a pastime of the Dwarrows, but since The Burning...I’ve seen life in a different way. Growing, flourishing things fill me with hope for the future.” Dís spoke.  
“You created this?” Bilbo asked, surprised.  
“Every leaf.” Dís claimed, proud.  
They walked to one of the stone benches overlooking a pond of rainbow fish and sat.  
“You were mentioned in the will.” Dís said, looking down at the fish.  
“A last letter? Or did he wish for me to have something?” Bilbo asked.  
“I apologize, but there was no letter. Thorin didn’t think death would ever sneak up on him. You were left some things, though.”  
Dís handed him a small book out of one of her pockets and opened it to a marked page. She handed the book to Bilbo and he began to read.

To Bilbo Baggins of The Shire, I leave the following possessions, in the effect that he might remember my presence and the imprint he left on my life and mine on his:

My Mithril armor, which he is already in possession of  
My fur coat, which I wore during the quest for Erebor  
This Diary, after it has been examined and the Will read  
A private home in Erebor, if he wishes ever to visit or stay permanently  
Any and all of my unclaimed treasures, if he wished to keep them

Bilbo, the beauty of the clearest diamond could never compare to you. I love you.

Bilbo put the book down, slightly stunned. Dís smiled.  
“You underestimated his appreciation for you.”  
“I thought we were just...I don’t know. I didn’t think it was actually going anywhere.”  
“We see the people we love like we see gold and rubies. We don’t let go of them for any small matter, death included. You watch. Thorin’s love for you will remain, even if he is no longer here.”  
Bilbo sat back, still stunned. It wasn’t until he thought of the unclaimed treasure that he realized how horribly selfish he was being. He needed to ask about the nephews.  
“I wanted to ask...how are you? I lost a lover...but you lost a brother. And your sons.”  
Dís went rigid, her stubby fingernails clenched into her dark trousers.  
“I...I cannot lie, halfling. It is like the world has become quieter. The very sound of joy in my life has ceased to call out. I know they died with honor…but they died nonetheless.”  
“I know what you mean. Thorin...he was just so confident, you know? He was convinced he’d be able to take back Erebor. I’m just scared...that he knew all along he wouldn’t survive.”  
“I am scared too. I am scared like a Queen should never be, but yet, there it is. Like a stone in my stomach.”  
“Why are you scared?” Bilbo asked concerning  
“Because everything changed now, doesn’t it? I’m never going to see them again. Fili and Kili...and Thorin and all of those soldiers who fought so bravely. They are all dead, and they are never going to return.” She whispered, choking back tears. She was quiet for a few seconds, and then spoke again.  
“Death is permanent, and that scares me.”  
Bilbo put a tentative hand over the queen’s who was now clenching her hands so tight the knuckles we as white as snow.  
“Then don’t you think we owe it to them to remember? They died so we could live...we should remember what they did because it’s the decent thing to do.” Bilbo whispered. The air was growing chill as the sun settled below the horizon.  
“As the sun settles in the sky, so does the stone in my stomach, albeit with less weight than before. Thank you, Halfling. I’d be happy to show you to your house here in the mountain so that you may retire for the night. We will continue with the will tomorrow.  
“Tomorrow? Is there more he left to me?”  
“Not so much physical gifts rather than responsibility. He asked that you help sort out some of the other matters. You knew Thorin better than most, even if it was for a short time. He asked you stand in for him when it came to proceedings. “  
“What do you mean?” Bilbo asked.  
“Oh...basically when Thorin left vague words in the will or his approval was needed for something, you will be asked to step in. You’re basically standing in as, uh...husband.”  
Bilbo was slightly shocked at these words, but stayed silent.  
Bilbo did not speak. He allowed Dís to lead him through the colony halls to his new house. It near the royal family’s own house, on the face of a public square with a fountain in the middle, which was studded with precious stones. The front door was wood, but all of the walls and floors were warm grey stone. It was built on the corner of a vaulted ceiling, so it had windows on two sides, with the rest delving into the solid rock.  
“Inspect it. Get used to it. We all feel you deserve it. A peon will arrive later to bring you to dinner.” Dís stated quietly before leaving. Bilbo could still hear sadness in her voice.  
Dís closed the door and Bilbo suddenly found everything very quiet. There were many lanterns hung from the ceiling providing excellent lighting, but it might as well been pitch black for all he could sense.  
He moved slowly through the house. The first room was a kitchen, with a semi-detached dining room on the side. A large pantry (not nearly as large as the one in Bag End, though) took up the rest of the main floor.  
Bilbo ventured up the stone staircase. He guessed it was up to him to cover the floors with furry animal hides. Thorin would have liked that.  
The next floor up, a very disorientating experience considering Bag End was on a single floor and just spread horizontally, held a main entertaining room, a study, and a very large bathroom, the enormous tub carved directly into the stone floor, which accounted for the low ceiling in the pantry below.  
The next floor up, the final one, held only one enormous bedroom, which was also partially a study and a library. The bed frame was carved from the floor. The ceiling above was carved with decorative swirls and whorls. It was beautiful.  
Bilbo held himself, not cold, but lonely. The house was still as silent as ever. Bilbo could not help but see the parallels. Standing sturdy, but empty. The pantry was starved, the kitchen cold, the bookshelf's in need of atlases and the bed frame in need of a mattress and blankets. Everything was half-finished. Nothing was complete.  
Bilbo walked slowly towards the closet and pressed a hand against the door. He already had a hope of what was inside. Slowly, he pulled open the door and his face dropped. Inside, handing on a solitary wire hanger, was Thorin’s jacket. The one promised to him in his will.  
Bilbo brought one hand up to his mouth, but he did not gasp. He then extended that single hand out and tentatively stroked the broad fur shoulder. A beautiful shade of tan, with red and orange closer to the pelt.  
Bilbo pulled it off the hanger and was initially surprised by the weight of it. Had it secretly been elven made? It was feather light.  
The metal detailing on the sleeves clinked gently as he spread it out, looking at it. What journey had the jacket made from Thorin’s body to this closet? He hadn’t been wearing it at the Battle Of Five Armies. He’d been wearing traditional armor for that. The coat would have been shed in his military tent, and then after the will had been sorted out, sent here.  
Bilbo put the coat on and found it fit rather well. A lot of people saw him as something small and fragile in comparison to the dwarves, but Bilbo wasn’t really. When they had bathed in rivers, Bilbo had seen that there wasn’t much in difference. When Bilbo had felt Thorin’s body against his own, he knew there wasn’t much difference.  
He rubbed his hands on the sleeves and pulled up the lapels up to his nose. Through the leather and smoke, it was there. Thorin. He could almost hear the sound of his voice.  
Bilbo laid down on the cold bed frame and hugged the jacket closer to himself, trying to submerge himself in the scent. He rolled on his side and the feeling of something small pressing into his leg got his attention. Rifling through the pockets brought up the single thing Bilbo really wasn’t ready to see. A small wooden box. Bilbo didn’t need to peer inside to know what it was, but he did anyway. A wide silver ring, bearing a round emerald ringed by thirteen tiny opals that all flashed rainbow in the dim light.  
“Oh Thorin.” Bilbo whispered, holding the box up to his lips. How long had he been planning it? Knowing Thorin, he was probably going to propose right after their victory at The Battle Of Five Armies. Standing in as husband, indeed.  
Bilbo put the box back in Thorin’s pocket and curled up tighter. Compacting himself into such a small existence, maybe he’d just fade away. Just so he didn’t have to live like this anymore. Just so he didn’t have to feel like he was worth nothing all the time.  
Thorin wouldn’t want you to a small voice said in the back of Bilbo’s head.  
Bilbo rolled onto his back and looked over to the door. He imagined the doorknob turning and Thorin walking in, asking for his coat back, saying he needed to be somewhere. He’d smile in the way he did and Bilbo would hand over the coat, but not before pulling him in. Pressing his temple against his chest, just hearing that heartbeat. Slow and steady. That’s what Bilbo needed. Slow and steady in a world that was becoming more erratic and chaotic every day.  
“I love you.” He could hear Thorin whisper, almost like a tangible thing in the air instead of an echo in his head.  
“I love you too.” Bilbo whispered back.  
Bilbo slowly got up, watching the dust motes around him quiver in the air.  
“I’ll start with the kitchen.” Bilbo said plainly as if there were someone in the room.  
“Then the living room. I’ll get some really nice chairs. Then I’ll move upwards. Maps and pictures everywhere. A nice bed cover, with animal skins. Slowly, but surely, I’ll make this a home. I’ll make you proud.”  
Bilbo took off the coat and hung it up in the dresser, letting his fingers trail over the fur as he stepped away and closed the door.  
Holding tightly on to the small wooden box, he opened it once more, just to look at the ring. He closed the box, letting it sparkle in the dim light one last time.  
Slowly and adamantly, he laid it down on edge of the bed frame. He walked out, but his hand caught on the doorframe. He looked back once into the room and smiled. He felt different. Something was changing within him.  
“I’ll make you proud.” He whispered before closing the door.


End file.
